The Hunt

Chapter 2

In grade four of the history pods we were taught about the Hunt. I can remember that day like it was yesterday, the day that I realized that I wasn't going to live long. The history pods told our class that we were in a nation of peace, fairness, and to make this country better, they said, we would have to get rid of those who didn't fit the requirements.

The Hunt would be used to get rid of the people with these traits. That was the year when we kids were allowed to watch the Hunt on the screen in the town square for the first time, or the richer people could watch it on screens at home, or on their Hunter issued pods, if they had the money.

The pod went on to list the things that weren't adequate for the government. Everyone stared at me through their pod screens as the traits were listed. I can remember Micah holding my hand, gripping it from the safety of our loft.

That was the day I went home and sobbed for hours on end, my eyes never drying, new tears flowing like a waterfall after a storm. The day I began to shut everyone out, because I knew that I would never make it past 18. That was the day I learned that red hair is one of the fatal traits.

***

At first my parents tried to hide it, saying that red hair was a fad, and that my real hair color was a mousy brown like my sisters', or a lightish brown like Micah's. We smudged dirt in my fiery hair every morning before we were to report for pod lessons.

It didn't work. Because of me and my red hair, my family got fined a whole food ration for a month. We all were extra skinny that November, never mind the changing seasons. At first, no one wanted to take me in for work. We weren't allowed outside our zone of 4,349 people, so my options were limited.

Our zone houses people with mousy brown hair and dull gray eyes, as opposed to pale blue or green eyes or blond or brown hair. Our zone is said to have the most undesirable traits, so we do the jobs of fixing appliances and household things.

Some of the richer zones have tens of thousands of people, as they are bred to be pretty or handsome. The highest up zone houses the blonds, with pale blue eyes. They work in the Hunter Squads or as musicians, actors, models, and designers. The more undesirable your traits are, the lower your zone.

Some families are separated if their children don't look the same, but all the outliers are weeded out the year they turn fifteen. There is no zone for people with red hair. I knew I wouldn't last, so it was hard to find a job or food.

For weeks on end I scavenged the forest at the zone boundaries for berries, nuts, even flowers. And for weeks on end I ran away from guards who patrolled, making sure that all of the zone behaved neatly, orderly, and respectful to their tasks.

I remember asking my mom if I could do something besides fixing appliances, and I was immediately reprimanded with a beating to the back. Our zone is poor, we only get work from the poor themselves, because the few richer people have money to pay the Hunters to fix their pods and screens. All men and women are required to do this job, and the competition is fierce, and the hunger for food during the Winter fiercer.

My hair meant that I found even less work than a ten year old girl would normally get. It didn't matter that I was the best in my class, or that I could recite history pod lessons with 100% accuracy.

Even so, I got more work than the rest of my family, because they were frowned apon for lying and giving birth to a redhead. My flaming red hair meant devastation for my whole family, just like the soldiers in our house.